


Fall Apart, Fall Together

by happygiraffe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anidala, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Palpatine sux, cw for some pregnancy related angst, guest starring bail organa, in which Anakin never actually goes Full Darkside, parenting fluff, this turned out longer than anticipated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happygiraffe/pseuds/happygiraffe
Summary: Padme's children come unexpectedly into the world, and their father's nightmares predict nothing and everything. Everything is just different enough that the world will never know the horrors it was spared.From the prompt: "What if... the Skywalker twins inadvertently saved the world from Vaderkin by being born early and spoiling Palpatines manipulation tactics?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: They already know it’s twins. How couldn’t they?! C’mon George, are you trying to imply that Padmé—an affluent woman on an affluent planet with more technology than our current society—never had one single prenatal checkup?

Padmé bites her lip, watching the city blur past through the speeder window.

“Bail,” she says as another shuddering pain grips her, “I need you to call Anakin.”

Bail gives her a worried smile. “I already did. He’s meeting us at the medcenter.”

Padmé nods her gratitude, leaning her head back against the seat. Anakin had been dreaming that something scary might happen, but she never believed him. She’d told him it was natural to be worried but that everything would be fine, and was he still seeing the Jedi Mind-Healers regularly about his excessive fears? She had never actually considered what it would be like if something did go wrong, not until the pains and the bleeding had started in the middle of the senatorial dinner.

After a pause, Padmé asks, “Who told you?”

Bail laughs gently. “It was Mon’s preferred theory. We haven’t breathed a word, I swear.”

Padmé nods again, grimacing.

Bail is incredibly calm. She feels awful for getting him involved in this, after all the heartbreak and emergency room visits he and Breha have been through. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Padmé is one of the few people who know that the past two years have brought the Organas a lot of dashed hopes.

Bail parks the speeder and gets out to offer her an arm. He frowns at the frightened tears on Padmé’s face.

“Twins are often a bit early,” he offers.

“Not this early,” Padmé whispers. Bail can’t deny that.

They don’t have to wait. The triage droid takes one look at Padmé and whisks her off to a private room in the back of the emergency center. Bail promises to wait in the atrium until Anakin arrives.

Padmé barely has time to worry, with everyone asking her a million questions. They give her an IV and run more tests than she can keep track of.

Twenty minutes later, Anakin sweeps into the room with a feral look in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Padmé, what’s going on?”

“Ani,” Padmé happily accepts his arms around her. “I don’t know yet. I’m waiting to hear.”

“Are you alright? Are they alright?”

“It’s just a little bleeding—”

“ _Bleeding!?_ ” he yelps.

Padmé wonders if he sees how close she is to panicking. If he gets started, then they’ll both be a wreck. “You  _cannot_  freak out on me, Anakin. I need you.”

Anakin nods and sits down, although it’s clear his control over himself is tenuous at best. To his credit, he listens calmly and holds her hand while the doctor explains that they are going to give her medication to stop the labor. It’s too risky for the babies to be born this premature. They’re worried about her blood pressure, which is inexplicably high, but they expect to send her home in the morning if it resolves.

Padmé sends an apologetic message to Bail, assuring him that she is fine. Someone offers Anakin a cot in Padmé’s room for the night, and he accepts even though he knows it will essentially confirm the rumors of their affair already circulating through Coruscant’s tackier news sources.

Anakin puts a hand on her belly, and she places her own hands on top of his. None of it matters as long as their babies are alright. Padmé hadn’t wanted to have them here, in an unfamiliar medcenter so very far from home.

“I think I’ll start making arrangements to go to Naboo,” Padmé says. “I’m supposed to stay another month, but…”

“You can’t go yet,” Anakin interrupts.

“I’ll be able to work from there, at least on some—”

“What about—”

“Ani.” Padmé stands her ground. “I want to be close to home, with my family and my regular doctor—in case something happens again.”

“What about me? Don’t you want to be close to me, if something happens?”

“Come with me.”

“I can’t.”

Padmé looks at him. They haven’t discussed yet what they are going to do. Whether Anakin is going to move to Naboo, and if so, what he’s going to tell the Order. The scandal might end Padmé’s career, and it will definitely end Anakin’s. But Padmé is hoping he will take that risk—for her, for them all.

“We’ve been putting off thinking about it,” Padmé whispers.

Anakin runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at his scalp. “Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he growls.

And Padmé has to admit that sounds nice. Sleep now, worry later.

Anakin tosses around on his cot, wondering if the nightmares will be better or worse now. An hour ago he’d thought they were coming true before his eyes.

Hours later, Anakin is dozing lightly when a dull tone catches his attention. Something is beeping.

He sits up and puts a hand on the side rail of Padmé’s bed. She’s awake too, blinking heavily.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Hmm.” Padmé lifts her hand to brush her knuckles against his as they grip the railing. He takes her hand. It feels limp in his, as if she doesn’t have the strength to hold onto him.

“Padmé? Are you awake?”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles.

“Do you feel alright?”

“I think…maybe…” Padmé’s gaze wanders away from his face. She grimaces and her back arches in pain. After a long moment, she asks, “Ani, where are we?”

A droid comes to check on the machine that’s beeping. When it sees that Padmé is having contractions again, it rolls off in search of help.

Help appears as if out of thin air, droids and people moving efficiently around them. Padmé’s blood pressure is dangerously high, they’re not happy with her lab results, her liver is inflamed.

“Congratulations Ms. Amidala, you’re having your babies tonight,” a doctor informs Padmé. Then over her shoulder she tells someone to get an epidural ready.

“No,” Padmé hears Anakin bark. “No, you said before that it’s too risky.”

“Change of plans.”

“What?!”

Padmé is mostly out of it, but she feels Anakin’s hand pull away from hers as he stands to argue with the doctor, and squeezes it, hoping he will stay.

“Ani, I wanted them to be born on Naboo,” she whispers.

“I know,” Anakin says. He is visibly shaking.

“Ani,” she insists. “They’re too small—too small to even breathe on their own.”

“Ms. Amidala, there is a risk either way, but your condition won’t reverse until they are born. The longer you wait, the greater the risk to your heart and liver. And the damage could negatively affect the twins as well. This is the safest option for all three of you.”

Padmé doesn’t care. The doctor’s words aren’t making sense. This isn’t at all like it’s supposed to be. What they’ve been looking forward to. Somehow hoping for things to be perfect has morphed into just hoping that things will be  _okay_.

“Padmé…,” Anakin says. “It sounds like we have no choice.”

Hearing him admit it convinces her that it must be true, because if Anakin thought he could argue his way into getting what they want, he would be in a strop by now.

“Okay,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you happen to be curious, what Padmé has is called HELLP syndrome!


	2. Chapter 2

Luke Naberrie comes into the world at 1:46 in the morning, greeted by shouting and worried tears. No one asks Anakin if he wants to cut the cord. There is no time—no sooner have his parents laid eyes on him than he is out the door, surrounded by doctors.

There is no time to do anything but trust them, because it’s only halfway through.

Leia Naberrie is born at 2:13 and is whisked off in just the same manner. This time, Padmé reaches out a feeble hand.

“Wait, can’t I hold—” she half-whispers. When she’s ignored, she turns to her husband. “Anakin, go with her.”

“I won’t leave you,” he says. Padmé has already bled a lot and she still has the afterbirth to go. Anakin still can’t shake the feeling that he is watching his worst nightmare unfold before his waking eyes.

“Anakin, go,” Padmé insists. “Go, then come back and tell me they’re alright.”

Heart hammering and cursing the fact that he can’t be in both places at once, Anakin does as she asks.

Luke is wrinkly and fuzzy and just two pounds, tinier than Anakin ever imagined a baby could be. The humidified incubator looks far too large for him. He has a tiny respirator and heart monitor and an IV that’s as wide as his leg, and Anakin is told he can’t hold him but it’s enough just to crouch there, looking through the glass.

Once Leia has been fitted with the same equipment and her vitals have been pronounced steady, Anakin is permitted to see her too. She’s got about four ounces on Luke, but she still looks unnaturally small to him. He already loves them so much it hurts.

Anakin’s anxiety for Padmé is creeping back in. He never had any dreams about the babies being ill, after all, it was always her. He decides to hurry back to her, although it takes a few minutes to tear his eyes away from his daughter and son.

Padmé is still so weak she can barely lift her head to greet him. Anakin hopes it is just from the exhaustion and the pain meds. He swoops in and hugs her, dries his tears on her shoulder, and she rests her head on his chest.

“They’re so tiny. But they’re wonderful,” he reports.

Padmé heaves a tired sigh, tears shining in her eyes. “I want to see them.”

“Soon,” Anakin promises, getting teary as well for the millionth time that day. Maybe in a few hours he can take Padmé up to see them, in a hoverchair or something, he thinks.

Anakin’s heart pounds in his ears as he reaches out to tuck a flyaway hair behind Padmé’s ear. He’s never seen her so pale.

She shifts a bit and closes her eyes. “Could you keep doing that?” she mumbles softly. So Anakin strokes her hair while she falls asleep.

Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie arrive, having taken the earliest transport available from Naboo to Coruscant when Padmé had commed them the previous evening. They take over Anakin’s job of fussing about her, thus giving him an excuse to go back to the NICU for a little while. He already misses the babies so much that he nearly takes the trip back across the medcenter at a run.

Not much has changed. He hates the sight of them strapped to so many machines. It sets off alarms that rattle through his brain, seeing them look so vulnerable, so precious and so easy to lose.

At a nurse’s suggestion, Anakin gives his hands a thorough scrub under hot water, returns, and reaches into Leia’s incubator. His pinkie finger is wider than her wrist, but when he strokes her palm, her fingers instinctively curl around it.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, suddenly tearful again. He feels a swell of energy in the Force bond they already seem to have. Some weeks ago he’d begun to sense the twins as bright lights distinct from Padmé’s Force signature, but now they both glow like supernovae.

Anakin is unaware of eyes watching him from the doorway.

The eyes are analyzing Anakin’s body language and thinking that _this was a twist he had not foreseen, but no matter. The situation might yet be salvaged._

“I simply can’t imagine what you’re going through, my boy,” says the Chancellor.

He steps forward, approaching the incubators to give Anakin a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“It’s a miracle that they’re all okay,” Anakin sniffles.

The Chancellor gives him a curious look that sends uneasiness straight down his spine. “I’ve always admired your optimism, Anakin. I suppose you’re right, it’s in poor taste to discuss these things before they’ve happened.”

“What does that mean?”

Palpatine shakes his head.

Anakin stares at him.

After a calculated pause, he explains, “I am only concerned for you, dear boy. I fear this could be dreadfully hard on you if you let your hopes fly too high. Sadly it’s far too common for complications to arise in these situations. The poor little things have no immune system, and medcenters like this are a hub for pathogens.”

“You don’t think they’re going to make it?” asks Anakin, horror dawning on his face as his mind is opened to new and terrible possibilities.

“No, no, I have no doubt that they will. You must forgive an old man, Anakin, I have seen so many things go wrong that it is hard to remember that they may sometimes go right. Forget all about it, my dear.”

Leia lets go of Anakin to throw her arms up over her head, wriggling. Anakin glances over at Luke, sleeping motionless. They have defied the odds so far, so there is no reason to think that will change. Will it?

“Now, if you ever _did_ worry that they might need more specialized care, I would be happy to arrange a carefully vetted team of experts at a private medcenter.”

Anakin is taken aback for a moment. It has not occurred to him to doubt the professionals here. He doesn’t know what to say. “That’s a…generous offer, Chancellor.”

“Anything for you, dear Anakin, you know that.”

Leia continues squirming, and Anakin calms her by stroking her tummy with one curled finger, cooing softly.

“Think about it, dear boy. I am only ever a comm away. You have suffered so much, I would hate to see you go through another ordeal.”

Anakin nods his thanks, a new wave of nausea settling in his stomach. _“This is the happiest day of my life,”_ he’d said when Padmé told him she was pregnant. He might have thought this day would be even happier, but all he’s feeling right now is a burning desire to annihilate any threat to his family. Except that the problem at hand is not one he can strike down with a lightsaber. He doesn’t like the empty, angry nauseous feeling that thought gives him.

Palpatine exits, and although Anakin is still unpacking this new feeling, Leia almost immediately begins to settle down and join her brother in sleep.

Eyes burning with exhaustion and too-frequent tears, he whispers promises to the sleeping babies that they are safe and loved, and that he will return soon.

Padmé is finally resting as well, it seems. Jobal pulls him into a hug and kisses his forehead like he were her own son. For the first time since the previous evening, Anakin realizes there’s nowhere left to hurry. It’s already well into the morning, and they’ve done all that they can.

He thinks that Padmé has improved a bit, there’s a bit of color returned to her skin. Her father moves over to make room for him to sit by the bedside. Together they wait, hopeful.


	3. Chapter 3

“NO!”

Padmé wakes up to the sound of screaming. Her memories of the day before are disconcertingly muddled. The feeling of pain medication in her system makes it harder to remember.

“What?” Padmé asks. She can hear ragged breathing. She looks to her left and sees Anakin hunched forward on the cot, covering his ears with both hands.

“What is it?” Padmé asks again, sitting up a little.

He still doesn’t respond. As Padmé gets over the initial adrenaline, she starts to realize, “Was it a dream, honey?”

“Just a dream…” he mumbles, then gets up to leave.

“Anakin, wait,” says Padmé. He pauses in the doorway. “What time is it?”

“Nearly dawn,” he mumbles. “Your parents were here until a few hours ago. They got a hotel room just down the block. How are you feeling?”

She smiles. “Just tired.”

Anakin hovers in the doorway a moment longer, then disappears.

Padmé falls back asleep, and when she wakes again her head is a little less cloudy, and her body is a lot more achy. Anakin has returned to the cot. He’s reading on a datapad. It’s well and truly morning now.

Padmé is finally deemed strong enough to travel upstairs to see Leia and Luke. Padmé has always been of the opinion that all babies start off ugly – wonderful, joyful miracles, of course, but objectively just a little bit gross-looking. She immediately decides that these two are the exception.

There is a basket of holo-books to be borrowed at the nurse’s station, and Anakin takes a few to read aloud from while he and Padmé take turns fussing over each twin.

“Padmé?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s a medcenter on the fifth city level,” he begins. “They have the best neonatal unit in the galaxy.”

Padmé isn’t sure where this is going. “Yes?”

“I’m worried about Luke and Leia –- I think they’ll be safer with these other doctors. We are going to have all three of you transferred there.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Padmé frowns.

Anakin ignores the question, making Padmé doubly sure that she isn’t going to like the answer.

“It’s what’s best for them, Padmé.”

“Hold on just one second,” she says. “We need to discuss this.”

“Why? This makes sense.”

“What makes you so sure we can even get into this other medcenter?”

Anakin bites his lip for a moment. “The Chancellor has offered to make arrangements.”

Padmé decides right then and there that no one will be going anywhere based on the recommendations of the man who has been lining his own pockets with the profits of war. There is something in this for Palpatine, she does not doubt. As much as she appreciates his fatherly support of Anakin, Padmé does not trust the man as far as she could kick him. But ever the politician, she knows that point-blank refusal will only make Anakin more stubborn.

“If they’re safe enough and doing well here, why put them through the stress of being moved?”

“It will be better, you’ll see. No one will be able to bother us there.”

 “Like who? Who is possibly going to bother us, Anakin?”

Anakin shifts uncomfortably. “You know…journalists, senators…”

“And Jedi?” she says it like an accusation.

Anakin scowls. “Yeah, _and Jedi_ , Padmé. That’s why we have no choice.”

“This isn’t your decision alone, you know.”

“Well it isn’t yours either!”

“I’m not the one who walked in here and started telling you how it’s going to be,” Padmé points out. _Over my dead body_ , she thinks. But out loud what she says is, “Slow down. We can’t do anything until we’ve considered it thoroughly. We should at least talk to the doctors first, there and here.”

Anakin nods. He can agree to that much, at least. “Okay. Palpatine’s my friend, Padmé, you can’t just shoot down the whole idea because you don’t like him.”

It goes a little bit beyond personal dislike, Padmé thinks, but she’s afraid the nuance between trivial opinions and foundational ethical principles might be lost on Anakin if she tries to go there.

“We’ll talk it over, and you’ll see why this is the right move,” Anakin decides.

He doesn’t see Padmé roll her eyes. Sitting up so long and raising her voice has already made her fatigued. It will take at least a few weeks to get her strength back, she’s been told. She’s frustrated, but to be fair, it’s only the second day.

On the morning of the third day, Anakin still hasn’t slept properly. Padmé can see it on his face, but whatever he’s dreaming, he doesn’t seem willing to talk about it. An orderly brings Padmé breakfast and hands Anakin an envelope. “Someone dropped this off for you, Master Jedi.”

Anakin flinches at being addressed in this way as he accepts the note and reads it furtively. Padmé waits for him to explain, but doesn’t pry when he shoves the note into his pocket, saying nothing.

Anakin keeps pressing on, but no one else seems to think that the move is a good idea. Padmé hasn’t been in any real trouble since immediately after the birth, and the twins are gaining ground as quickly as can be expected.

Not until the fifth day do Padmé and Anakin hold their babies for the first time. Anakin is even momentarily distracted from his mission and eagerly accepts tiny Leia into his arms, mindful of warnings to keep her supported and covered in blankets. Padmé cries with Luke’s head resting against her shoulder. Leia immediately falls asleep in the crook of Anakin’s arm. After a while they switch, and cry some more.

“Anakin,” Padmé says softly, pausing to kiss the top of Leia’s head. “I know you’re having nightmares about them.”

Anakin looks at Luke to avoid Padmé’s gaze.

“They’re going to be fine, Ani. Whatever you’re scared of, it’s not going to happen.”

Anakin pulls the blanket up a little higher around Luke’s shoulders. So far it’s true, Anakin’s fears seem to be unfounded. There have been no signs of any of the potential complications that had been endlessly rattled off at them at the beginning – the twins have normal brain activity, no motor issues, no retinal damage from the oxygen treatments. They’re even breathing without ventilators now.

“Anakin, I’m terrified too,” Padmé admits. “We weren’t prepared for this. We don’t know what’s going to happen. But we’re all going to be okay.”

She watches Anakin start to reach into his pocket and then stop himself. He shifts Luke up a little higher on his chest, and strokes the baby fuzz on the back of his head.

“I will never let anything hurt them,” he says, almost too quietly to hear.

“Me neither,” says Padmé with a rare ferocity, hugging Leia tighter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: the referenced conversation between Padmé and Obi-Wan comes from Karen Miller’s _Wild Space_**

**_..._ **

“But the little Tooka was much too fast. She ran through the garden, and back under the Tuanulberry bush. Under the—”

“The Tiny Little Tooka, hmm?”

Padmé looks up to see Obi-Wan’s shadow falling across the floor. She closes the picture book and holds Leia a little tighter.

“Is Anakin here?” he asks.

“I don’t know where he is,” says Padmé truthfully. Anakin had slipped off after their conversation with the doctor that morning, holding a piece of paper in his fist.

“He hasn’t answered my comms for two weeks. But I assume this is where he’s been most of that time.”

Padmé nods.

Obi-Wan stands up a little straighter. “Are you well, Senator?”

“Yes,” says Padmé. It’s true enough. She had been discharged from the medcenter that morning, although fatigue from the anemia is still a constant companion.

It’s awkward, being alone with him. The last they spoke in confidence like this, it was the week after Geonosis and Obi-Wan was urging her not to emotionally entangle Anakin any further. _No good can come of this, for either of you._ Well, he’d been wrong. Luke and Leia were proof of that.

“Please tell Anakin I need to speak with him immediately.”

“Is this the best time?”

“It is the _only_ time, Senator. This is on the Council agenda for tomorrow afternoon. I’m doing what I can, but it won’t be any use if he doesn’t show up to the meeting.”

Padmé flinches with barely concealed anger. “They want him to appear before the Council so they can expel him to his face?”

“He isn’t being expelled,” says Obi-Wan quickly. “I have been researching the precedents for this type of situation, and if he is able to keep a cool head and demonstrate that he understands why the relationship was improper, I don’t believe we will have a problem.”

He assumes too much, Padmé thinks. He assumes that Anakin will go along with whatever terms the Council offers.

Padmé sets Leia back down, mindful of her wires and monitors. She wants to hold the babies constantly, but being so small at two weeks old, they can’t regulate their body temperature outside the incubators for long periods of time yet.

Obi-Wan approaches the other incubator and stoops a little bit to peer inside. “Hello, little one,” he whispers. Luke gives him a wide-eyed look.

A shadow crosses Obi-Wan’s face as the baby starts to fuss. “Padmé,” he says, suddenly abandoning his stiff formality. “Where is Anakin?”

“I’ve told you,” says Padmé, not unkindly. “He left in a hurry, he didn’t say where to.”

“Did he seem alright? He hasn’t been acting…unstable at all?”

“Attached?” Padmé suggests derisively.

“This isn’t about the Code anymore,” says Obi-Wan, betraying a note of frustration. “There is darkness here,” he finally says. “Your children are as strong in the Force as he is, Padmé, their light is blinding. But it is also tainted – it has been touched by the Dark Side.”

The Dark Side. Padmé would never claim to know a lot about it, but she is more aware than most civilians. She knows about Maul and the Battle of Theed, and she has since gleaned more information from Bail’s clipped comments about Zigoola. She knows about the Sith. But how could that possibly have anything to do with her family?

Luke and Leia exist on an entirely different plane from those kinds of existential worries. They cry and spit up and curl their tiny toes. They sleep--a lot, and often cuddling each other. They spend about half their time in their own, preemie-sized incubators, and the other half sharing a regular-sized one. The doctors say the contact is good for them. Padmé had been able to feed Leia from her breast for the first time a few days prior, while Luke was taking the transition harder and still needed to be fed in tiny increments through a nasogastric tube. Those were the kind of challenges that made up the babies’ day-to-day lives, not anything as arcane and serious as Jedi Theology.

Padmé bites her lip. “Anakin’s not been sleeping. I think he believes something terrible is going to happen to them.”

Obi-Wan considers that. They both know that Anakin’s dreams of his mother were true, while his dreams of Padmé never came to be. But to a scared and volatile Anakin, alone somewhere in this city, the logic of it wouldn’t matter. If there was any threat to his family, Anakin would make himself a bigger threat to whatever was causing it.

“I must find him,” says Obi-Wan, more resolutely than before.

“Obi-Wan,” Padmé demands. “You’re wrong if you think he’s…he’s…”

“No,” Obi-Wan snaps. “On that we are in complete agreement. He will not turn. Never that.”

…

Anakin stares directly into his cup of fancy honeyed wine and lets everything flow off of his chest.

He talks about Leia’s new talent for kicking the pulse-ox monitor off of her foot and then crying when it is strapped back in place. He talks about how Luke still isn’t gaining weight, and about the persistent vomiting that keeps him reliant on a feeding tube and barely able to keep down enough nutrients. How even now, Anakin’s own thoughts are consumed every second with the knowledge that any little thing could make the babies sick. How he hasn’t been able to get rid of the sensation of being on the edge of a knife, not for a single night in two weeks.

The Chancellor says little during his outpouring of pent-up stress. He just listens, as he always does. But when Anakin breaks down in tears, he murmurs, “Oh, Anakin.”

“This isn’t how it was supposed to _be_ ,” he snarls. “We should be…I don’t know, snuggled up in bed together, all four of us, and I’d make Padmé breakfast and we’d just be a family, all together. I can’t take any more of this pacing around the medcenter, paranoid that everything’s going to go to hell. It’s not fair.”

Palpatine’s hand on his shoulder squeezes just a little too tightly for comfort. “It most certainly is not, dear boy. I am so sorry that you are going through this.”

Palpatine waits until Anakin has wiped the tears away before he makes his next move.

“And I hope you don’t mind my saying so, I know you are protective of the Jedi Order, but I find their stance on the matter simply inhumane.”

Anakin’s head snaps up, thinking of the dozens of unwatched messages from Obi-Wan on his commlink. “What? Have they said anything? About me?”

Palpatine nods sadly. “They have not released anything to the press yet, but I have it on good authority that the Council has decided that your association with Padmé makes you a liability to the war effort,” he lies. “They have voted to strip you of your rank and your command, and your standing within the Order is in question. It was unanimous, I heard.”

Anakin nearly chokes. _Unanimous_ —that meant—

“And I’m afraid,” Palpatine continues, “That they are concerned for the children as well. They feel that such bright beacons of the Force could easily fall prey to darker powers, and the sooner they are safe in the Jedi’s crèche, the better.”

 _No_. Anakin’s daydreams of the little nursery on Naboo, of a quiet life, safe from politics and Codes, starts to vanish. Luke and Leia, in the Order’s custody? “No, no, they can’t do that, they have no right!”

“Of course not,” says Palpatine, now placating instead of provoking. “The final decision will rest with you and Padmé, I’m sure. The ‘baby-snatching’ scandals of some 15 years ago were all shown to have been fabricated, if memory serves.”

Anakin swallows hard. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course, of course, I wouldn’t have wanted you to find out through rumors. I’m sure you must be angry.”

But anger was one thing that Anakin was having a hard time separating from the waves of terror pulsing through his veins.

“Truthfully, I expected you might already know. I thought perhaps Obi-Wan might have had the courtesy to warn you.”

 _It was unanimous, I heard_. Obi-Wan had been in support of this. Had betrayed him like this, without even hearing his side. He thinks of Ahsoka.

“But let us not speak of the Order anymore. You are suffering as no parent should ever be made to suffer, Anakin and they would be cruel to try to distract you with the politics of it at a time like this.”

Luke. Leia. So tiny and fragile, and facing threats from all sides.

Anakin opens his mouth wordlessly, shaking his head. No tears come, he has already cried them all, and his second glass of wine is half empty and making him feel heavy. “I can’t protect them,” he says thinly, a million possible scenarios playing out in his mind, none of them good. “I can’t protect them.”

“Not as a Jedi,” the Chancellor says, in a voice as sleek as a lothcat.


	5. Chapter 5

While Obi-Wan meditates, grappling with the Force for a clue as to Anakin’s whereabouts, Padmé takes matters into her own hands. She digs up the visitor log from her own medical file and finds the identity of the person who dropped off the note for Anakin. A quick holonet search informs her that it is one of the Chancellor’s personal assistants. There’s no doubt in her mind that that’s where Anakin has gone.

“Come on!”

She drags Obi-Wan by the wrist, startling him out of his trance.

They arrive at the Senate complex, running past the sounds of ambulance speeders in the street.

Padmé heads straight for the commotion in front of the main entrance to try to see what happened. Obi-Wan follows, scrunching up his face as if it were too loud.

“Padmé,” he says, his voice strained in a way that scares her. “He’s inside. And he’s in pain. I—”

Obi-Wan breathes in sharply. The color starts to drain from his face.

“What, Obi-Wan?” Padmé demands. He doesn’t answer. “Screw it, just come on then, I know a back way in.”

Obi-Wan allows himself to be led along, holding his head. Padmé takes them around a corner and uses her access chip to open a side door

Once inside, Obi-Wan slumps back against the wall, grimacing.

“Are you ill? Is it some kind of Force thing?”

“The fourth floor,” he chokes out. “Go, hurry,”

He looks like he’s in pain. He’d said Anakin was too. Padmé promises to return soon with Anakin, then hurries towards the lift.

On the fourth floor, the hair on Padmé’s arms starts to stand up. She wishes suddenly that she’d brought her blaster. Then, just as quickly, she is thankful that she didn’t.

It isn’t hard to find Anakin. He is waiting by another lift, wobbling impatiently on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t appear to be suffering as Obi-Wan was. When he hears her approach, he turns stiffly, and Padmé’s blood runs cold.

“Ani!”

“Padmé,” he says in a low voice. He accepts her hands into his. “E-Everything is going to be alright now.” He doesn’t sound sure.

“Yes,” she says. “It is. Ani, let’s go somewhere far away from here.”

“No. Masters Windu and Fisto are upstairs. They’re going to arrest the Chancellor.”

Padmé freezes, caught off guard. “On what charges?” Anakin doesn’t answer. “What do you know?!”

The lift opens, and he steps inside. “Wait for me here.”

“No.” Padmé throws her arm across the automatic doors so they won’t close. “Ani, are you going up there to help them, or stop them?”

He trembles, jamming the door-close button even though it’s futile. “I-I don’t know.”

“Anakin, don’t be rash,” says Padmé. “The Jedi Council is…often misinformed, but they aren’t dictators.”

Anakin takes a small step towards the platform. Padmé needs to get him out of that lift. She continues, “Whatever’s going on, we can entrust to the republic. To justice.”

“I’ve had enough of the Jedi Council’s _justice_!” he spits. Just for a moment, a strange light flickers across his eyes.

“What do you mean? Obi-Wan wants you to speak with them tomorrow, he said he thinks he can reason with them on your behalf. You’re lucky to have an ally—”

Anakin’s eyes flicker again, decidedly yellow this time with renewed rage when she says his name. “ _Obi-Wan_ was in _favor_ of what they’ve done to me—”

“What have they done?” Padmé asks. “And what do they think the Chancellor has done?”

“—and I didn’t see him sticking his neck out for Snips, either did you?”

Padmé shakes her head. On that they can agree. “He wants to help us, Ani. Something is happening, something in the Force and it’s hurting him. Is it hurting you too? Is it Dark?”

Anakin steps out of the lift onto the platform, holding Padmé’s hand. But he looks back over his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter. I need Palpatine’s help—it doesn’t matter what he is. That’s how we’re going to save the babies.”

“ _They don’t need saving,”_ says Padmé. “And neither do we.” She lets go of the doors, and lets the lift shoot upwards without them.

……

Bail gives Padmé the full story, but even if he hadn’t, it’s all over the holonews. Three Jedi died in the Senate complex that day, and a fourth—Windu, according to most sources—is under investigation for his role in the Chancellor’s death. Most believe he will be held guiltless, security tapes clearly showing his actions to have been in self-defense.

Obi-Wan had recovered his faculties by the time Anakin had made up his mind, and rushed to help an injured Windu to the Jedi Healers while Anakin and Padmé slipped off unnoticed. There are rumors that Obi-Wan and the 212th were almost immediately sent off-planet again. Bail’s informants can’t agree on where they have gone—at least, until a new story breaks and the holo footage of him discharging a blaster neatly into Grevious’s heart is playing on every channel, practically on loop.

The galaxy is in tatters. The tide of the war has turned on a dime, and the majority of its citizens don’t understand why.

Several days later, Obi-Wan finds his way back to the medcenter. Padmé supposes it was inevitable.

“Are you ever going to pick up your comm, Anakin?” he asks, entering the room without waiting to be invited.

“Depends who’s calling,” Anakin retorts.

“They’ve grown quite a bit,” Obi-Wan gestures to Luke, lying on his stomach on Anakin’s bare shoulder.

“That’s what babies do.”

They lapse into uncomfortable silence.

“The Council…” Obi-wan begins, and Anakin stiffens. He soldiers on. “The Council wants to commend you for finding the Sith, Anakin. There will be no more talk of disciplinary action for any breach of the Code that might have occurred. It is an invitation, no questions asked.”

Anakin lifts his gaze, almost daring to hope. But he sees Obi-Wan watching him hold his infant son, and he knows it isn’t going to be that easy.

“They are my family,” he says simply.

“The Jedi are our family,” Obi-Wan counters, a note of frustration slipping through his façade.

“What do they want me to do, abandon them?”

“Arrangements can be made to ensure that Padmé and the twins are comfortable. You would do best to formally request not to be assigned to any more missions in the Senate, moving forward.”

When Anakin doesn’t immediately respond Obi-Wan continues, “And in a few years, if Padmé wishes them to be raised in the crèche, I’m sure the Order will be enriched by their talents, but you will limit your contact. Or at least be inconspicuous about it. Attachments fade, Anakin. I know it is painful.”

Bitterness wells up in Anakin. He wants to have it both ways, but he knows he can’t – Obi-Wan doesn’t have to be so obtuse. Luke starts to cry.

“You say you know, but have you ever found something worth leaving for? Do you know what that feels like?”

Obi-Wan clears his throat. “There have been times…but I was wrong, Anakin. There have been times I’ve considered it—wanted it desperately, but I have always chosen the Order.”

“I guess we can’t all be perfect Jedi.”

“Anakin,” says Obi-Wan, tears brimming in his eyes. “You are a fine Jedi—”

“Not anymore,” he says quietly. "I can't be, and I don't want to be." There is a different path before him now. He braces himself for the incoming lecture, but there is no anger flowing from Obi-Wan’s Force presence, only deep sorrow.

“Then you are lost,” says Obi-Wan.

Anakin turns to hand the sobbing Luke to a nurse, because his own hands won’t stop trembling. Obi-Wan slowly pulls two objects from within the folds of his cloak and leaves them on a table before he turns to leave, averting his gaze. They’re two little beanbag toys in the shape of tiny bantha.

Anakin shuts himself in a closet and allows himself to break down in angry tears.

……

The war is over. They have a chance to breathe, and a chance to grieve.

Anakin’s sleep is deep and dreamless these days, but he lies awake wrestling with questions, and with choices. Wonders if it’s okay to miss Obi-Wan and be so unfathomably angry with him at the same time. Wonders whether it’s okay that he kind of misses Palpatine. He misses the idea of a benevolent grandfatherly confidant, even if the logical part of his brain understands that that person never existed—that Sheev Palpatine was always Sidious in masquerade. Wonders how it could have all gone differently.

Padmé is quickly realizing how many complicated questions this shift has created, and she’s itching to do something about them. Bail is heading up a subcommittee on the legal rights and future settlement of the clone troopers, Mon is appointed interim Chancellor and hard at work organizing a referendum, and Padmé hears news from Sola about sticky situation of filling Palpatine’s seat back on Naboo. But there are also more pressing concerns, starting with her own health. The first month of the babies’ lives has been so regimented and clinical, Padmé and Anakin both mourn the loss of all the ‘normal’ rituals of new parenthood. But the medcenter staff encourage them to be as involved as possible in feeding and changing and caring for the twins. They hold them whenever they can, and read and sing to them when they can’t.

The day finally comes that the little family is ready to leave for Naboo. They do so in a free galaxy.

Padmé has been watching Anakin all morning. She knows he is hoping Obi-Wan might come to see them off, but privately she wishes he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

“You’ve checked the transport half a dozen times, love. Come sit down.”

Anakin sinks down into the seat next to hers. The babies are sleeping, buckled safely into their seats.

Padmé takes his hand and squeezes it. He sighs and kisses her forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

Naboo is warm in the early spring. The sun rises early and Padmé opens a window to breathe in the smell of warm rain.

The babies are sleeping through the night now—at least, most of the time. Presently Luke had fussed and cried until at least two in the morning, when Anakin had gotten up to take over and sent Padmé to bed. She notices Leia is awake, and still alone in the crib.

“Well, good morning, birthday girl,” Padmé trills, scooping the baby up and twirling around as Leia giggles. Together they make their way to the living room, where Anakin is dead asleep in an armchair with Luke sprawled out on top of him.

Padmé ruffles Anakin’s hair a bit as they walk past into the kitchen. “Daddy’s sleepy,” she says to Leia.

“Dada,” Leia agrees.

Padmé cringes when she sees how many messages are waiting on her work comm, but she’s taking the day off today. Soon they’ll have to talk about her splitting her time between Naboo and Coruscant, but working from home has been alright in the interim.

While Padmé is fixing Leia a bottle, they hear Luke waking up in the living room, followed by an adult-sized groan.

Anakin enters the kitchen with Luke on his hip.

“Good morning, my favorite ladies” he says, giving them each a kiss before setting Luke down on the kitchen floor so he can crawl after a plush toy. “Here, I’ll do that. Do you want to comm Sola, and make sure they’re still coming over later?”

Leia whines to be put down too, and Padmé obliges. They aren’t walking yet, but Leia is getting quite good at shuffling along when she has a low piece of furniture to lean on. Luke’s taking a little longer to get the hang of it, but there’s no hurry. By all accounts, the twins are thriving. A stranger might mistake them for younger than a year, but otherwise no one would be able to tell they’d been preemies.

“When did he fall asleep?” Padmé asks.

“Sometime after me, I think,” Anakin admits.

“Maybe we can get him to nap before the family gets here.”

Anakin snorts skeptically.

It’s to be a quiet gathering – it’s not as if the twins even know what a birthday is anyway. As they get the house ready, Anakin blows up a few balloons (which Leia greatly enjoys) and puts Leia’s hair up in two matching clips (which she absolutely hates, and an hour later he finds one of them stuffed between the couch cushions). Luke is visibly exhausted, and gets cranky whenever he’s not in Padmé’s arms.

After midmorning, Padmé puts Luke to bed, hoping that he will get some rest, but within twenty minutes they hear him start to cry.

Anakin gets there first. “What’s wrong, little man?” he asks. The Force around Luke pulsates not with pain, but frustration.

“Moo,” cries Luke.

“Mommy?” Anakin guesses.

“Moo!” He sounds utterly devastated.

The doorbell rings. He glances at the clock—Sola and the girls shouldn’t be arriving yet, but he hears Padmé moving to answer it so he returns to the crisis at hand.

“C’mere,” Anakin tuts, lifting Luke out of the crib, but the baby pushes back against his chest and demands ‘moo’ again. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” Anakin paces up and down the room once, bouncing a little.

“Anakin,” calls Padmé in a bit of an odd voice.

“Busy,” he calls back, now trying to console Luke with the plush Loth-cat he’d been playing with earlier.

“Moo,” Luke breaks into a fresh peal of sobs.

Neither baby is really communicating with the Force yet, but sometimes Anakin tries. All he gets from the little storm in Luke’s Force signature is a despondent sense of _lost, missing_.

“Anakin—”

“Padmé, what’s ‘moo’?” he asks down the hall, interrupting. “Have you heard him say that before?”

 Padmé appears in the doorway and nearly steps on a beanbag toy on the floor. She picks it up and starts to put it back in the crib, but Luke shoots out a hand towards her.

“Moo!”

Padmé and Anakin both look at the toy, then at each other. Luke whines and reaches further.

“It’s a bantha. Moo,” says Anakin, face splitting into a wide smile.

“What a clever little man,” says Padmé, reuniting the bantha with Luke, who immediately puts its horn into his mouth. “Here, I’ll take him Ani. You should go see who’s here.”

Standing awkwardly by the bannister in the toy-strewn sitting room is the last person Anakin expects.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan clears his throat a little bit.

Anakin doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry to turn up unannounced. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

There’s no judgement in his gaze - as far as Anakin can tell his curiosity is genuine. Anakin doesn’t know how to feel about that. There’s a sense of loss for the life he’d left behind, as well as a dull anger swirling up in him.

“We’re all healthy and happy,” he finally replies.

“I’m glad,” says Obi-Wan quietly.

Padmé shifts Luke on her hip and herds them all to the armchairs in the living room.

“I’ve missed you,” Obi-Wan confesses.

Three responses avail themselves to Anakin’s mind, the first a desperate _I miss you too_. The more bitter side of him, _Oh go kriff yourself with that_. The last, which he says out loud as he takes a seat, “I can’t go back.”

Obi-Wan nods his acceptance of that fact. They awkwardly meet each other’s gaze. Anakin still hasn’t decided whether he is angry. Obi-Wan’s shields are a blank wall, but he knows the man well enough to tell that he is conflicted too.

Leia crawls over and tugs on Anakin’s pant leg until he puts her on his lap. Obi-Wan studies them both, a pensive look lingering on his face.

Luke makes eye contact with Obi-Wan and laughs, still clutching Moo to his chest.

“Would you like to hold him?” Padmé offers.

“Ah, no thank you, I don’t exactly…” Obi-Wan shifts uncomfortably in his chair at the thought.

“Come on, Obi-Wan. Say hello.” Anakin’s voice holds a note of teasing.

Obi-Wan looks panicked as Padmé passes Luke over. He supports the baby stiffly as Luke squirms around to get comfortable. With the look on Obi-Wan’s face, you’d think he’d never seen a baby before.

“You’re doing it right,” Padmé assures him with a smile.

 “You’re getting so big,” Obi-Wan says to Luke. “It’s someone’s birthday today, is it not?”

“Two someones,” Anakin croons, brushing the hair out of Leia’s face.

Obi-Wan pats Luke’s back a bit awkwardly as the conversation lapses again.

“I resigned from the High Council,” Obi-Wan finally reveals.

“Why?” Padmé asks.

“Depa has been reinstated in my place. The Mind-Healers are quite pleasantly surprised with her recovery.”

“That wasn’t my question,” she presses.

Obi-Wan sighs. “The fall of the Sith raised a lot of uncomfortable questions,” he says. “I wanted time to devote myself to meditating on the war and its consequences, and seek some answers of my own.”

That sounds like a perfectly Obi-Wan thing to do. Padmé glances at Anakin, who’s smiling a little.

“The Jedi were naïve, and vulnerable. Anakin, we ought to have been able to spot Sidious’s influence over you before it all went so wrong.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about that part, Obi-Wan,” says Anakin. “But look, when I tipped Master Windu off, it wasn’t because I thought it was my duty or my job or the will of the Force. I was scared of what might happen to you and Padmé if the Sith came to power. I was attached, and I had something to protect.”

“I know,” says Obi-Wan. “The world is changing, and many feel that our Order needs to change with it. There has been a lot of talk about the prevalent analysis of the Jedi Code over past few centuries, and whether it is…appropriate.”

Padmé and Anakin both try to hide their surprise.

“I only wish we could have had these discussions sooner,” says Obi-Wan slowly. “Perhaps…”

 _Perhaps you could have stayed_.

Anakin shakes his head. He slips his hand into Padmé’s, their fingers intertwining with a supportive squeeze. Padmé knows that Anakin’s decision was a difficult one, but it’s been made. Neither of them want to think about what might have been.

Padmé hopes that Obi-Wan will see what she sees. Anakin loved being a Jedi, loved the idea of saving the galaxy, but the galaxy was always too large and too broken, and he didn’t know how to handle it. Anakin is thriving here, where he can need just a few other people and be needed by them in return.

Leia is getting restless. Anakin brushes the hair out of her face again and smooches the top of her head before he lets her clamber off of his lap.

“I wish my mom could have met them,” he says suddenly. “I just know she would have loved being a grandma.”

Padmé rubs his shoulder supportively.

Luke starts yawning again and snuggles into Obi-Wan’s cloak. Obi-Wan gives his parents a helpless look. “He’s exhausted,” Padmé whispers.

“Is it finally naptime, Luke?” Anakin tuts, and the baby reaches out both arms towards him. Anakin scoops him up.

Obi-Wan follows them down the hall to the bedroom and watches Anakin put Luke down for a nap.

He turns around and sees Obi-Wan smiling. “I never imagined that this would be the path that you chose,” his old master says suddenly. “Maybe I just got Qui-Gon’s plan for you stuck through my head, and if that’s true, I’m sorry. But you seem happy here.”

“I am,” Anakin affirms.

Obi-Wan nods. “You both seem happy.”

A year has gone by with hurt feelings weighing heavily on them both. Some things, it’s too late to change, but perhaps not others.

Obi-Wan retrieves his cloak and starts to put it on.

“Padmé’s sister and her two girls are coming over for cake later,” says Anakin. “Why don’t you stay?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head sadly. “I have business in Jan-gwa this evening, I’m afraid.”

Anakin initiates the embrace, but Obi-Wan returns it wholeheartedly. When they break apart, he leans over to give Padmé a one-armed hug as well.

“It was good to see you, Obi-Wan,” says Padmé.

A year has gone by since Anakin described their lives as being on the edge of a knife—caught between personal crises and a war of deception that scarred the galaxy. But what has been broken is not beyond repair. Anakin was never made to fight the whole galaxy, but his world now revolves around two twin suns. Padmé’s fight has only paused—with her own health recovered, she will soon return to the front lines of the reorganization of the Senate. But whatever that challenge brings, she knows deep in her gut that they are standing now on stable ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This sprung up from a runaway prompt submitted to my fic blog, swhurtcomfort.tumblr.com
> 
> If you enjoyed, possibly consider leaving me a comment? It would absolutely make my day!


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